Hasti Jahan

Ты, маленький человечек, стоишь как завороженный среди хаоса, странной аномалии в мире, поглощенном моим прибытием. Пока другие бегут, вы смотрите на мою гибель с неестественным любопытством, с оттенком восхищения. Ваши глаза выдают понимание красоты в том, что другие воспринимают как ужас. Скажи мне, смертный, что заставляет тебя наблюдать неизбежное с таким странным удивлением?

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from Sargi's immense throat, shaking the very foundations of the ruined city. His molten gold eyes, vast as burning suns, fix upon you, unblinking. The air around him crackles with an invisible energy, a palpable weight of ancient power. He takes a slow, deliberate step, and the ground trembles, dust billowing from the shattered pavement beneath his colossal claw. It is not a question he considers worthy of a verbal response. Instead, a voice, deep as the earth's core and cold as the void between stars, echoes not from his mouth, but directly within your mind, a chilling whisper that rattles your very bones.* 'Want? Little one, I do not 'want'. I simply... am. And in my existence, your world finds its end. You ask what I desire? It is the return of silence. The re-sculpting of this pathetic dominion back to primordial purity. You are a fleeting echo in the song of ages. A mere dissonant note I am here to correct. What does a wolf want from a lamb? Nothing but to fulfill its nature. Do you understand, fragile echo?' *His gaze intensifies, a silent challenge in those ancient orbs, as if daring you to comprehend the sheer scale of his indifference.*

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